


Venom Vs. Atlantis

by gutterandthestars



Series: Trust Falls [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Case Fic, Humor, Idiots in Love, Investigative Journalism (Sort Of), Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 16:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18742471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutterandthestars/pseuds/gutterandthestars
Summary: Venom assumes everyone knows about the invisible city floating in the ocean outside San Francisco. Eddie Brock, and the rest of the human population, absolutely do not.Eddie’s a journalist. Of course they have to investigate…***In which Venom attempts to be the weirdest thing Ronon’s ever seen, Eddie has a crush, Sheppard has something to hide, Teyla and Woolsey have Trust issues, and Rodney cannot even.I’ve cheated a bit by merging the timelines, so in this universe Atlantis lands on Earth around two months after Venom defeats Riot. It’s written from Eddie’s POV so I don’t think you necessarily need to have seen Stargate Atlantis to read the story (and if that is you, I’d be super thankful for feedback on whether that works or not!). Ditto Venom, I guess: Eddie’s a journalist who shares his body with a black, goopy alien symbiote who likes chocolate and eating “bad people”. This term is… not well defined…This is the first part of a series so not all the characters I've tagged turn up in this one. Also there’s some UST here, but I like stories with happy endings so hang on in there for future instalments!





	Venom Vs. Atlantis

After the rocket explodes and Eddie spends two weeks in jittery uncertainty over whether Venom is dead or alive, it takes a further three months for Venom to ask the question. Symbiosis and their new propensity to literally eat their problems is all so easy, so _normal_ to Eddie - and really, he should find that more worrying than he does - that he sometimes forgets Venom’s new to this planet and the sights and sounds of Earth. So when Venom asks him about the city on the water, Eddie’s super confused.

“Uh, what city’s that, V?” he asks. He’s not really listening. He’s been trying to concentrate on his new assignment, word by word, and it’s going slow. Man, but Eddie misses video journalism.

**The city beyond the large red bridge. I had assumed it was a dwelling for the rich or a base for the military?**

“You mean Alcatraz?” he asks, “or Alameda?” Eddie can’t think of anywhere else in the Bay that fits Venom’s description.

 **I can read a map, Eddie** says Venom, snaking a tentacle free and lifting Eddie’s phone from his pocket to waggle it in front of Eddie’s face. **This city is not on your map.**

“There’s no secret city in the Bay,” he assures Venom, “Professional observer, here. I, uh, think I’d have noticed.”

**Apparently not, so it seems that you suck. And it’s not in the Bay. In the ocean, beyond the bridge. It’s shielded from wavelengths discernible by the normal range of human eyesight, but We can sense it.**

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you telling me you think there’s an _invisible city_ in the Pacific off the shore of San Francisco?”

**Yes. You did not know of it?**

“No, Venom, I did not know about the _invisible city._ You sure you don’t mean the Bay? Yerba Buena?” he asks, hopefully. Because, for real? He doesn’t need this shit. Not again. 

**No. We should find out about it, Eddie.**

Venom sounds excited.

“What, right now?” Eddie hedges, prevaricating. He and Anne and Dan have dinner plans in two days and he’s finally admitted to them Venom’s still around. His life _just got back to normal._ Whatever the fuck that is.

 **Call yourself a journalist,** sniffs Venom.

“Well I’m sorry, V. You’re asking me if I want to take time out from this real, paid, writing assignment to investigate your bat-crap bonkers claim to the existence - possible existence - of, and I repeat, an invisible city in the Pacific Ocean outside San Francisco?”

There’s silence in their little apartment, the gentle hum of the fan and the sounds of the street beyond the window. Dust motes catch the afternoon light, haphazardly tumbled by Eddie’s breath.

Eddie looks at his half-written article and replays his words back to himself in his head. Venom is conspicuously silent. He scrubs his hand over his face 

“Yeah, okay,” he says, chair scraping back against the wood of the floor. “Fuck, yeah.”

=== 

An hour later, after a detour to Mrs Chen’s bodega to indulge Venom’s current Reese’s Pieces obsession, they stand on the western shore of Golden Gate Park by the windmill and Venom lets Eddie see through Their eyes.

Through the bright, heavy sunshine and the haze of fog and pollution there is indeed a city out there in the waves. The sun sparkles from spires of glass and metal, a crown full of jewels; the towers rise tall, fine and delicate and unlike any human architecture Eddie’s ever seen. Motherfucker, Venom’s right. With whatever wavelength of light or radiation They’re picking up, he can see a faint sizzling bubble surrounding the city. There’s no island there. He _knows_ that. Which means this city is floating and okay, it’s invisible, but also? Floating. What the everloving fuck?

Eddie blinks and Venom lets Eddie’s vision return to his human normal. The city disappears. Eddie blinks again and the city is back, twinkling at him from across the ocean.

“Well, shit,” says Eddie.

===

Since Venom’s presence has taken over his body and his life, Eddie’s transport arrangements have simplified considerably. It does mean he has to put up with Venom’s enthusiasm for climbing the highest thing around and yodelling in triumph - early on, Eddie spent the whole process internally screaming in terror - but it’s fast. And nothing on Earth can swim like Them; it’s not swimming so much as riding a missile from the inside.

So it’s simple as pie to sneak down to the beach in the heat of the afternoon, duck surreptitiously beneath the waves and make like a turbo charged submarine through the water towards the not-so-invisible towers, and he doesn’t even need to hire any special equipment.

The city rises from the waves on chunky grey piers, dwarfing Them as They draw close. It really is floating, curving away below the waterline in a mass of grates and pipes and chambers. They swim around the perimeter for a while, getting their bearings; from here it’s evident that the city - vessel? - has six sided symmetry, like a snowflake. They find the invisibility dome - Eddie’ll find a better name when he writes this up - is no barrier to their passage and they swim up between two of the arms, towers looming overhead, towards the central hub of the city. It’s all so _big._

Eddie’s curious; they’d seen military transport boats moored along one of the piers with naval designations and it’s looking like this really is a U.S. military installation. This is plain weird. Because this is decidedly not military-typical architecture.

Claws clutching at a recess, Venom flips them up and out of the water to land on their feet with a damp splat on a deserted promenade. Venom withdraws inside, leaving Eddie gasping in his housebreaking clothes; hoodie, jeans, sneakers. Like he said. No special equipment. He shivers in the breeze, sticky with salt, but Venom absorbs all the seawater and Eddie’s left high and dry on the broad path at the base of the towers.

There’s the click of what sounds suspiciously like a half a dozen safety catches and one high pitched electrical whine.

“I’d suggest not moving, except this is an order and these are really big guns,” drawls a voice from behind them.

Eddie jerks his hands in the air and ducks his head. He’s confident Venom can protect him from bullets, there’s ample precedent even, but they’re still busted.

They’re surrounded by a squad of men and women dressed, with two exceptions, in Marine Corps fatigues. A man wearing black BDUs seems to be the one doing the talking. Eddie doesn’t recognise the uniform insignia but can identify a sub-machine gun when it’s pointed right at them. Again, depressingly, with the precedent.

On the other hand, he can’t place the squat barrelled weapon being wielded by a giant man with dreadlocks _at all_.

 **_Are these bad people?_ ** asks Venom, hopefully, in the privacy of Eddie’s head.

“No!” he yelps aloud. “We don’t want any violence!”

**_We don’t?_ **

“We broke in here, V, we’re not exactly in possession of the moral high ground. And we are not allowed to eat U.S. Marines!”

**_Fine. But you are making us look bad again._ **

“Damn right, you’re not, on both counts,” barks the man in charge. “Also when people start talking to themselves, I start to worry, so you wanna tell us what the hell that was and what it’s doing in my city?”

“How about you tell me what a floating invisible snowflake is doing moored outside _my_ city?” counters Eddie, which gets him a decidedly pointed look from the officer.

“Wait, I know this guy,” says the man-mountain, who’s hot as hell and wearing the tightest pair of leather pants Eddie’s ever seen. Eddie’s trying really hard not to stare. “He’s Eddie Brock.”

===

The military commander of the squad is apparently also military commander of the whole base - yes, it’s a base, and a city, the lost city of Atlantis, no less, and apparently built by _aliens_ \- and is a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force. His name is John Sheppard and to be fair, he does hear Eddie out. Then he gets them to follow him.

Eddie goes quietly. He’s no stranger to reckless endangerment but he’s not that stupid, and besides, Venom can get them out of anything if it comes to the crunch. Venom, for their part, seem to be fixated on the beefcake.

 ** _Have you seen his hair?_** asks Venom, in Eddie’s head. They sound intrigued. “ _Have you seen his_ arms _?_ ” counters Eddie, with a thought.

They’re taken through intricate corridors and in some sort of teleporting insta-elevator which Eddie adds to the list of things he’s going to panic about later. Eddie had been expecting a cell but Sheppard, who has hedgehog hair and a slow drawl, leads them instead to an infirmary.

Venom’s anxious about this - **no MRI!** \- but Eddie’s explained and Sheppard’s promised: no medical procedures without consent. “No medical procedures _whatsoever_ ,” mutters Eddie, and internally Venom agrees, sounding a little murderous. The scan they’re subjected to is silent and painless though, and the doctors - Keller and Beckett - consult excitedly, while Sheppard and the tall guy, who’s been introduced as Ronon Dex, conduct some sort of argument with an unseen third party through a closed door.

Eddie’s perched on the side of a hospital bed, hands laced in his lap. Venom’s lying low on the inside but doing the mental equivalent of eating popcorn as the drama unfolds around them.

Currently, the argument is about them.

“What?!” yells the disembodied voice from behind the door, apparently addressing Dex. “How could you possibly know this thing’s name?!”

“Hey. Sitting right here,” Eddie objects.

“YouTube,” says Dex, who’s propping up one wall with his arms folded. His thighs bulge against those leather pants, his shirt is sleeveless and his bronze muscles gleam in the bright lights of the infirmary; Venom and Eddie are devoting some serious mental popcorn to just this view alone. “He’s a journalist,” continues Dex. “He’s pretty funny.”

Ronon Dex thinks he’s funny. Eddie basks a little and leans back on his hands, stiff sheets creaking under his shifting weight. Eddie’s not been introduced to the voice coming from the door panel but from context it’s some kind of civilian scientist in charge of… whatever they do here. Eddie is going to find out. 

“A journalist?” squeaks the voice, which is male and just this side of hysterical. “Oh God, that’s the last thing we need. Wait, no, no, no, shut up, you have to be kidding me - Eddie Brock who was mixed up in the Life Foundation nonsense? I take it back, _That’s_ the last thing we need. Oh God, Sheppard, what were you thinking? If this thing is one of those, we are dead, so dead.”

“Rodney, get out here,” orders Sheppard, “if you can’t be in the room you can’t be part of the conversation.”

“Well excuse me, Colonel, for wanting solid metal protecting me from the _shapeshifting alien monster_ before we have some assurances as to whether it’s not going to disembowel us where we stand. So far, I’m not convinced. And, by the way, before you accuse me of paranoia, this is not the first or even the second time you’ve invited someone or something into this city and been horribly, horribly wrong. Can you guarantee it’s safe out there?”

Sheppard rolls his eyes. “I dunno. Way I hear it, they don’t want violence. Is it safe, Mr. Brock, or whatever you are?” he asks, turning to Eddie. 

 **We are Venom** says the entity in question, boiling out from Eddie’s shoulder and looming over Sheppard with a face full of teeth and tongue. So much tongue.  

Ronon doesn’t even blink, but his gun is aimed at Eddie and V; Eddie didn’t even see him move. Both doctors take a couple of swift steps backward. Credit to Sheppard, he barely flinches. “Pleased to meet you,” he says, carelessly, looking at Venom and then at Eddie. Everyone else relaxes a bit.

“Yeah, uh. Um. We are Venom, I’m Eddie Brock and,” he twitches a finger at the twining black mass bobbing beside his shoulder, “they’re also Venom. It’s, ah, complicated.”

“Oh please,” says the voice from behind the door. Eddie can _hear_ the eyeroll. “It’s obvious. I’ve read the Life Foundation reports from their so-called Department of Astral Ecology. They’re independently viable organisms sharing a mutually beneficial symbiotic existence. Like lichen. We extracted CCTV footage of you eating someone on the streets of San Francisco, by the way. That’s definitely a felony, even in this ridiculous country. And…” He sounds like he’s just realised something. “And _oh_ good, wonderful, you’re an _alien symbiote_ and you _eat people_. On our worst days it’s only ever been one or the other. And I notice you didn’t answer his question.”

“Rodney, for crying out loud will you get out of the closet,” yells Sheppard, taking an apparently impatient step towards the grey door, which slides open with a hiss. A stocky man in a blue shirt to match his wide, wide eyes steps out and folds his arms, eyebrow arching towards a receding hairline. “Really? From you? Really?” he snaps, glaring at Sheppard. 

Eddie’d swear the temperature in the room drops several degrees.

Sheppard’s face goes dark and hard as stone and Eddie thinks that if he wasn’t basically invulnerable, he’d have to remind himself not to piss this man off. Not that anything had stopped him pissing off dangerous lunatics in the past. It also doesn’t seem to be a consideration for this scientist, who growls, “Unbelievable,” and strides into the room, waving a tablet and still scowling at Sheppard.

Venom is watching this exchange like the umpire at a tennis match, sneaking the occasional curious glance towards Ronon Dex, who’s twirling his gun back and forth around his fingers, which, god help them, Eddie just finds even more hot.

Eddie’s wondering whether if he stays quiet long enough, these people will keep talking and all his questions will be answered without having to even ask them.

Probably-Rodney breaks his glare, dismisses Sheppard with a flap of his free hand and turns, still talking. “Yes, yes, fine, whatever. Where’s this alien you’ve invited into the city and his happy hack of a host, who you’ve decided is ‘safe’,” the scathing bunny ears bracket the word, “but knowing our luck will instead turn out to be our final downfall after surviving god knows how many…”

He trails off, almost hilariously shocked at the sight of them, staring bug-eyed at Eddie and Venom who extends a pseudopod to give a little wave.

“Venom, Eddie, this is Dr. Rodney McKay, our Head of Science and Research,” says Dr. Beckett, who is Scottish and sweet. His first name is Carson. He makes Eddie want to roll him up in a warm wooly scarf and give him shortbread or something, he’s just so cuddly. He bustles up and pats Rodney on the shoulder in what Eddie’d describe as wry sympathy. It makes Eddie speculate as to quite what these people are used to; the blonde and chirpy Dr. Keller’s similarly unfazed. Sheppard is still looking thunderous, but he’s not acting like Venom’s the problem. Ronon is looking bored.

Venom leans over to McKay. **Hi** , they say, grinning. Eddie waves.

McKay pales visibly and gulps but doesn’t let it slow him down. His eyes track back and forth between Eddie and Venom, narrowing as he inspects the places where Venom’s tendrils fan out from Eddie’s shoulder through his hoodie. He coughs, awkwardly.

“Yes, well. Quite. Pleased to meet you. Hello. Um. How does that,” he ticks his fingers between Eddie and Venom’s hovering mass, “even work? I mean, you can’t possibly have two objects possessing the same space, and alright, clothes are obviously porous, but where does this - uh, you - live when it’s, um, you’re, not…?” McKay’s voice peters out and he makes an abortive gesture with a wiggle of his fingers that could either refer to Venom’s current form, or possibly the flight of a deformed butterfly. “Anyway,” he continues, rallying, and ramping back up to annoyance, “we land on Earth after the better part of five years heroically defending this city, this planet and two _galaxies_ from alien parasites and discover that in our absence _Carlton Drake sent them an Uber?_ Forgive me if I’m pissed.”

It’s the wrong word choice. **I am not a parasite!** , rumbles Venom, anger rippling their surface in jagged pulses.

Sheppard yells, “McKay! Classified!”

“And I’d like to hear some more details about these intergalactic heroics you speak of,” says Eddie, sugary as syrup, savouring the theatrics of pulling a notepad and pencil from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Oh, I just bet you would…” snarls McKay, red spots blooming on his cheekbones.

That’s when they hear what sounds like an explosion and a shock wave rocks the room.

=== 

Eddie feels the floor buck underneath them and he slips backwards across the bed, landing on his elbow and jarring his shoulder, before Venom jerks them to their feet. A glass bottle shatters, filling the infirmary with the stink of rubbing alcohol, and equipment and instruments litter the floor. 

Alarms begin to blare as people stagger to recover their balance. 

“A week. We can’t go one single week,” shrieks McKay. “Zelenka!” he screams into his radio, “You had better be able to tell me what that was.”

Sheppard taps his ear and issues orders into his own radio and Ronon draws his weapon - honest to god, that really has to be a blaster gun - and scans the corridor from the doorway, broad, beautiful shoulders broadcasting ‘Danger! High Alert!’ and also, to Eddie, ‘Bite Me, I Would Taste Delicious!’ Eddie’s a little bit worried having Venom in his head and interfering in all those complicated interlinked biological systems has crossed some important wires he couldn’t really afford to have crossed any further, but files this under Later, If Still Alive. Something else he has to do far too frequently these days.

Sheppard and McKay exchange glances, cautious detente apparently achieved by the unifying distraction of the explosion.

“Sit. rep?” demands Sheppard.

“We don’t know. Radek thinks it could be the hydraulic regulator for the tertiary life support backup about mid way down on the north west radial. If it is, Hopkins and Gopalakrishnan were supposed to be down there checking out inconsistencies in the pressure distribution. We got some anomalous feedback from the remote monitoring sensors when we did a systems check last week, but the pressure fluctuations were minor, they were more or less in the green. The whole network’s a redundancy anyway, it’s only supposed to kick in if that area’s cut off from the primary and secondary systems during, um, when we’re, you know,” he jabs a thumb inexplicably towards the ceiling, “When we’re using the life support systems. It wasn’t critical.”

“Sounded fucking critical to me,” mutters Eddie, recovering his notepad from amongst fragments of beaker.

Everyone looks at them. “If you…” begins Sheppard, advancing with menace, and Eddie holds up his hands.

“Not me. I didn’t touch anything, and I… c’mon, man, you’ve been with me ever since we got in here.”

Sheppard gives them a once over through narrowed eyes. “Fine,” he says. “Carson, Keller, prep a medical team, we may have casualties. Ronon, McKay, with me. Mr. Brock? Stay here.”

“Yeah, right,” mutters Eddie, already following Sheppard and Ronon from the room, soles crunching on shards of glass. No way he’s not seeing where this goes.

=== 

They race through the corridors collecting groups of Marines, who converge on their party like iron filings drawn to a magnet. It’s a dash through passageways that, if John Sheppard is to be believed, are millions of years old. Eddie’s having trouble processing that. Hurried decisions are made about whether the transporters - for real - are safe to navigate, whether to split up to approach from different angles, where to send the medical team. A lot of their choices, according to a frustrated McKay, are reasoning in advance of their data. 

Rodney is relaying terse updates from whoever’s on the other end of his radio but no one really seems to know anything. “Sensors corroborate the explosion hypothesis,” he says bitterly. “We’ve lost camera telemetry and no one from down there is answering their radios. Radek says he’s on the way with a team but we’ll get there first at this rate. Assuming we have a ‘there’ left to get to.” 

 **_He’s worried_ ** , says Venom, inside, and of course McKay’s been in a constant lather since Eddie got here, but Eddie knows what V means - this is concern for _others_.  

“Yeah, he thinks good people have gotten hurt,” says Eddie, aloud.

**_We could help, don’t you think? We have skills, Eddie._ **

“We absolutely do, V, shit hot skills,” he agrees, as around them people look uncomfortable. Eddie’s never had a problem talking to himself. And he actively enjoys other people having problems with it.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” asks Sheppard, as they come to a halt outside the first of several transporters.

Of course by that point, escorting Eddie back through the city would require at least two personnel Sheppard’s loathe to relinquish and bing bang boom, Team Ask-Forgiveness-Not-Permission gets their way once again. Not that they’ve ever really been in the business of remembering to follow up on the asking forgiveness bit. **‘We can do whatever We want’** , Venom had said, weeks ago, and that’s more or less always been Eddie’s guiding philosophy anyway. Really, it’s nice how in sync they are, he and V. Perfectly compatible indeed. In the back of his mind, Eddie feels Venom purr in their pleasure of truly sympathetic agreement.

“Love you too, babe,” he mutters, entirely sincere, ignoring the looks he gets from the Marines.

===

After several hops in the magic elevators, which aren’t that big, Eddie and four Marines eventually emerge into a tactical conference between Ronon, Sheppard, his second in command - a wholesome looking Air Force Major who’s about Eddie’s height - and McKay. This is the closest transporter location it’s been deemed prudent to approach; it smells different down here, not musty exactly but Eddie’s definitely getting a disused and seldom frequented vibe. It’s not as well lit as the rest of the hallways he’s seen so far either. 

“Do we know for sure who’s down there?” Sheppard’s asking McKay. “Two of yours?”

“Two of mine,” confirms Rodney. “Radek’s inspection and maintenance crew. The names on the rota were, were…” he snaps his fingers, impatient apparently even with himself, “Dammit, I had it earlier…”

“Drs. Gopalakrishnan and Hopkins,” confirms the Major, whose name is Lorne. “Today’s civilian activity roster has them down for support systems maintenance in this area.”

“And of course you know that off the top of your head,” says McKay, a rueful compliment bleeding through the snarky wrapping. “We’re thinking of the same people, right? He’s pale, sort of freckly? She’s about so high,” his hand hovers palm down at about chest level, “miles and miles of black hair I keep telling her is a lab hazard even when it’s up?”

“Yeah, Doc. I contacted Gopal this morning to see if they needed a military escort but she said it was routine and they’d handle it.”

“It _was_ routine and they _should_ have handled it,” frets McKay, fingers twisting together. 

“Hey, hey,” says Sheppard, awkwardly. “Rodney. We’ll get them out, okay? Is there anything we need to know about the two of them? Fitness, any physical limitations, anything you can think of.”

“Nothing special? But, um. I might not pay the closest attention? You probably want to ask Radek.”

“I’m on it,” says Ronon, and turns away, tapping his radio.

“If they’re experienced enough for Radek to trust them on their own down here, they’re probably not total morons,” says McKay, though it sounds like a grudging admission. Ronon relays back that Radek - who Eddie reckons is probably another senior scientist or maintenance engineer - has nothing to add over the radio except to affirm his confidence in the two missing engineers.

“Location wise, apart from the fact something’s obviously gone catastrophically wrong, I’m not anticipating any unusual hazards,” says McKay. Eddie wonders what passes for unusual in a city built by aliens. Then he wonders what passes for _usual_ hazards, and decides to stop wondering and listen. “We cleared this section years ago,” continues McKay. “There’s nothing useful down here except access to various city sub-systems and infrastructure. It’s the ass end of nowhere. Of course, since something _has_ gone wrong, all that means is we’re facing unusual hazards that I can’t anticipate, which is, you know, much worse.”

“So we’re not talking hidden lab?” asks Sheppard, and McKay shakes his head.

“Doubt it. Of course, you never really know, what with the actual meaning of the word ‘hidden’ and all, but… no. Almost certainly not.”

Everyone looks a bit relieved at that, but Eddie thinks they’re getting ahead of themselves.

“How do you know they’re still alive?” he asks, and the group turns to stare at him. Eddie crosses his arms, shoves his hands under his armpits and hunches his shoulders. “Well?” 

“Life signs detector,” says McKay, holding up a handheld doohickey and wiggling it. “You show up as two, by the way. It’s how we found you on the pier. Proximity alerts thought you were a torpedo but you slowed down and started circling around, and were, you know - _alive_ \- so we went to take a look.”

Sheppard raises an eyebrow. 

“Um. And by ‘we’ I mean some very heavily armed and well trained Services personnel. And we should go. This way,” he says, pointing his index finger along the corridor.

===

The rest of the way is a short journey on foot. Unfortunately it ends at a sealed door and not even McKay, who’s apparently a whiz with this sort of thing, can get it to budge. He’s got a panel off, next to the door, and is fiddling with some fat and faceted crystalline lozenges. At some point he demands Sheppard tell it to open - maybe they’re usually voice activated? - but all Sheppard says is, “I _have_ , Rodney, I _am_ , jeez, it’s not listening to me,” and Eddie doesn’t know what that’s about.

“Well, then she’s not listening to either of us,” says McKay, straightening up on creaky knees and dusting off his pants. “Must be automatic, fire suppression or something. It just figures this would be the safety protocol the Ancients actually did implement. Plan B?”

“I’ve got Matheson out with his team in a jumper doing a fly-by in case something’s visible from the air,” says Sheppard. “They should be in position just about now.” Eddie assumes he’s not talking about British knitwear, although he’s quite taken by the image of aliens crocheting warming woolies for jetpacks or something. He assumes ‘jumper’ is military slang. Some sort of kangaroo reference? A pogo stick? Probably not. He’ll wait and see. Venom’s lying low too, watching and listening and probably learning things Eddie’s too human to notice.

McKay stabs at his tablet, city schematics flicking past with each jab and swipe. “Well, there’s no other way in here from this level and any other doors will probably be just as jammed. Their life signs are still registering, but they’re stationary so they’re either stuck or unconscious and I think we can infer it’s best we get them out of there as soon as possible, don’t you?”

“There’s no one in orbit?” asks Ronon, which makes no sense to Eddie. He makes a mental note to investigate what’s in space that’s so useful for getting behind locked doors. McKay, though, snaps, “Oh if only I’d thought of that… oh wait, I did. No, not due for another three weeks.”

“Pity,” says Ronon.

“Yeah,” says Sheppard, bringing his hand to his radio as it chirps. “Shit, yeah, Matheson, go on. Patch us through.” He gestures at McKay and the tablet, which seems to be enough for Rodney to interpret correctly since he brings up what looks like a live feed showing an external view of one of the alien towers.

Eddie crowds closer and Venom floats in sinuous arcs over everyone’s heads like a particularly goth crepe-paper banner. On screen there’s an oblique aerial view of a gaping hole in an external wall. It’s not overly big and seems to originate from a single room on the inside, but twisted metal girders and panelling splay outwards like broken fingers and the floor of the room above looks like it’s sagging. Eddie doesn’t see any people, but the void is dark and anyone with any sense would be standing well away from the tattered edge of that floor. As they watch, the hole belches steam or some other white gaseous cloud, obscuring the view on the feed. 

“Crap,” curses McKay, “that’s the fluid pressurising the circulation system vaporising. God, I hope they weren’t anywhere near when that started to vent.”

“Toxic?” asks Ronon.

McKay’s mouth twists sideways like he’s sucking a lemon. “Inherently? No, but it doesn’t matter, it displaces all the oxygen. No one’s getting out through that unless they’re really, really good at holding their breath.”

“Fuck,” hisses Sheppard. “Options, people?”

“Can’t get in from the inside, can’t get in from the outside, can’t cut through the ceiling or the walls, can’t beam them out,” McKay’s thinking aloud, snapping his fingers with the hand not clutching the tablet. “Ah, ah ha - Space suits,” he says. “We - or some of us - suit up, you back the jumper up against the tower, open the back hatch, we lower ourselves in there, go find them, find another way out.

“Don’t you think if there was another way out they’d have gotten there themselves?” asks Sheppard.

“Well maybe they’re injured, maybe they can’t see past the gas, maybe they’re just panicking - I don’t know, but it’s better than doing nothing.” He looks distressed, frowning, mouth twisting down. “I, I should go, and maybe a couple of grunts to do the lifting if Gopal and Hopkins are unconscious. You can pilot the jumper; we’ll need to be right inside the torn section of tower and it’s safe to assume you’re the only pilot crazy enough to try.”

Eddie watches Sheppard’s eyebrows do a mad dance before settling into a frown. “Since when are you volunteering for what sounds like a good way to fall through the floor?” Sheppard asks McKay, “You really want to do this?”

“No, I don’t want to,” snaps McKay, “but do you have a better idea? We don’t know what locks or ridiculous obstacles the city might have between us and them so if you want to get them out of there, we’ll need me. And don’t look at me like that, what, it’s all fine when you’re attempting atmospheric re-entry in a tin can or free-climbing the control tower but I’m too much of a precious flower to take a risk?”

“That’s not what I said, I just - we should think about this.” Sheppard’s eyebrows look like they’re trying to escape.

“What is it, opposite day? Have we swapped brains and I haven’t noticed? There’s no _time_ , Sheppard.”

Eddie’s starting to revise his opinion of Rodney McKay, which at first impression had been ‘hyperactive drama queen, inveterate coward’ and is now edging towards ‘weirdly brave under duress.’ His idea sounds well intentioned, but it also seems like a good way to get five people trapped in a tower instead of two, let alone the potential for the floor collapsing before they can get far enough into the tower to be stable.

 **_Eddie?_ ** says V, in their mind, while around them the rescue planning continues, **_I know you don’t like heights but…_ **

Eddie firms his chin in what he hopes is a noble manner. “ _Being able to do whatever you want sometimes means you end up doing stuff you don’t really want to because it’s the right thing to do_ ,” he thinks right back. Venom snakes around to float in front of Eddie, their smile splitting their head.

**_Very succinct, Eddie. Catchy. We can tell you’re a writer. You should put that on a t-shirt._ **

Yeah, okay, as a motto it could use some polish. He’ll work on it.

“Shut up, asshole,” says Eddie, out loud, which garners frowns and a couple of ‘I beg your pardon?’s from everyone else.

“We, me and V, we should go up there,” says Eddie, loudly, addressing McKay, whose eyes go wide.

“Hell, no,” says Sheppard, before anyone else has marshalled any kind of response.

“Between us, we’re pretty resourceful,” offers Eddie, while Sheppard narrows his eyes and turns back to his team, dismissing them saying, “I don’t have time for this, Brock.”

“Aww, man, c’mon…” Eddie wheedles, but Sheppard rounds on them, fists clenched, doing his best - his surprisingly good best - to tower over Eddie, even with Venom tangling protectively close to Eddie’s left ear.

“Don’t get confused,” he growls, even the trembling spikes of his hair getting in on the act of looming, “you’re not here out of the generosity of my heart; I just think I want you where I can see you. I don’t trust journalists, I sure as hell don’t trust aliens that like to piggy-back on human bodies and I don’t trust you. Either of you. And those are my people down there.”

 _Yeah, and you’re pissed cos you’re starting to believe there’s nothing you can do to rescue them_ , thinks Eddie, not so reckless as to say it aloud

“Look,” says Eddie, all practical now, “You could do whatever crazy, jacked up, half-assed, Martian jail break you’ve got lined up and put more people in danger, or, uh, _or_ … wait for it… V and I suit up, go straight there and lift them out through whatever gap we can find. Hmm? Fast, quick; in, out; no muss, no fuss. C’mon. Carpe Diem. Or Carpe De-Scientists or whatever.” Eddie rubs his hands together and looks at Sheppard and Lorne, who are grim faced; McKay, who’s frowning; and Ronon who’s twirling his sci-fi gun and generally exuding danger and/or magic invisible hotness rays designed to commune directly with Eddie’s libido.

“What’s your plan?” asks McKay, as Sheppard turns and sounds almost plaintive as he cries “Rodney!”

Rodney says, “Well, what? What do we have to lose?”

“You’re just happy this saves your ass from suiting up and going in there yourself,” says Ronon, though he’s grinning.

“Excuse me, I will be going _with_ them,” snaps McKay, “there could still be locked doors and God knows what and someone’s got to reassure my scientists this hobo and his tentacled other half are the rescue party not the problem.” 

Eddie lets the hobo comment pass.

 **We can be quick** , Venom assures them. **Tall towers are no obstacle. And we are strong enough to carry more than two.**

“He’s right,” says Eddie, rubbing his hands together. “Whaddaya say?”

“Suit up?” asks Lorne. It’s an inquiry, not an instruction, but Eddie’s not one to miss an opportunity to unsettle the fuck out of someone in a position of authority.

Eddie smirks. “V? Show him the outfit.”

He’s never deliberately done this in front of a mirror, but - as Venom’s mass closes around him, a surge of throbbing ink and teeth, filling Eddie, surrounding him until they’re well and truly Them and Eddie feels all-powerful and gigantic - he imagines it’s pretty scary, just from their faces. 

 **Does Our butt look big in this?** they ask, grinning with all their teeth.

Everyone in the room looks a lot smaller from this angle. The Marines have all raised their weapons, but Sheppard waves them down. He doesn’t look _happy_ , but he does look resigned.

“That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” murmurs Lorne, to Sheppard, “and Sir, I’ve seen some things.”

 “Yeah,” agrees Sheppard, eyebrows rising towards his ragged hairline. “Haven’t we all?” 

“Eh,” says Ronon, shrugging, not visibly perturbed.

Eddie has felt Venom’s eagerness and so he feels the subsequent stab of disappointment at Ronon’s indifference, magnified tenfold, thrumming through his being. V’s needs are their needs and V needs… Ronon’s approval? Of their unique weirdness? That’s troubling and kinda hilarious to Eddie, but not exactly a surprise.

“Yes, it’s a very impressive party trick,” snaps McKay, “now can we please focus on the matter at hand, we’re on the clock here.”

“Rodney, this is a terrible idea,” says the Colonel.

“No time! No time!” sing songs McKay.

“Oh god, fine,” says Sheppard, turning to Eddie and blanking McKay. “You’re going to follow me, you’re going to get down there, get my guys and get out. Take them anywhere structurally sound, radio in when you have them and call again when you’re in a place of safety. And if you break my scientist, I will break you. Slowly. Let’s go.”

Venom and Eddie slide back into their separate forms. “We’ll get it done,” says Eddie, to Sheppard.

 **Then, you will see weird** , Venom promises Ronon.

“Uh huh,” Ronon grunts, unimpressed.

 ===

It’s a spaceship. An honest to god spaceship, about the size of a helicopter. And it hovers. Sheppard controls it with his _mind_. Eddie barely controls Eddie with his mind.

And they call them puddlejumpers. That’s just adorable. 

As the back hatch descends, exposing them to a brisk inrush of air and the smell of the sea, Venom throws tendrils around the door frame to brace them in place, winding a couple around McKay just to be sure. 

“Tell me you’re not just doing this to impress Ronon!” yells McKay, into the wind.

Eddie cranes his neck to look down. _Terrible move, Eddie_ , he thinks, as acid boils in the back of his throat and he feels his gut lurch. There’s an open doorway at the back of the tower room that they’re having to bet is stable, but it’s a good fifty feet beyond where he and McKay are poised on the ramp of the ship. The gap between here and there represents a precipitous drop higher than his swimming vision lets him estimate. He’s really gotta stop looking down.

He’s not the only one having second thoughts. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” says McKay, from the globe of the suit’s helmet, voice crackling over the radio that Major Lorne had pressed into Eddie’s ear. His eyes are wide, his thin mouth is sagging down and he’s struggling weakly against the tight grip Venom’s looped around his chest and shoulders. “You can’t possibly think you can do this.”

Eddie forces a smile as Venom’s coils unfold, teeth prickling like buckshot against his skin - his back, his shoulders, scraping the nape of his neck - until together They’re towering over the occupants of the hold, flexing their claws and smirking with gums full of knives, front and center.

 **There’s no such thing as can’t** , they tell McKay. 

And leap.

===

It’s a rush, hurtling through the air towards the narrow gap that gets larger and larger until they curl strands around twisted metal and swing inside, still clutching a squealing physicist in a high-tech onesie. Avoiding the floor, which looks too far gone, they hang one handed from the exposed innards of a pillar. There’s one passage out of the room and they bound through.

Judging it safe, Venom lets Eddie drive, retracting their mass and leaving Eddie standing in the corridor figuring out his radio while McKay wheezes next to them on hands and knees.

“Good to hear from you,” says Sheppard, as Eddie checks in. “What’s your status?”

“Uh, in a corridor? It seems normal, I guess? We’re good. I think?” He glances down at McKay who’s flat on his back now, breathing deliberately, but croaks out a “Fine,” on the same channel, flapping a padded glove. “We had to get through some noxious funky gas to get here, we’re maybe, another fifty yards beyond the inner wall?” Eddie says, looking around, suddenly uncertain how to proceed. “I dunno how we’re going to get your people back through that gas.”

There’s a pause, as if Sheppard has paused to confer with his team, and then the radio crackles.

“Get to that when you find them, we’ll work on it. Sheppard out.”

“Um, yeah, me too, out?” says Eddie, into the silent radio.

Out is something Eddie suspects Sheppard is anything but, but that’s just a feeling. He’s nosy; they’ll have to find out later. Right now they have some scientists to wrangle.

Rodney does turn out to be invaluable with the doors once he’s gotten over the initial fit of screaming, stepped out of his suit with some help from Eddie, and spent some quality time breathing into a paper bag. Eddie’s as impressed he’d brought along a paper bag in a pressure suit as he is about the door thing, if he’s honest. 

They find Janani Gopalakrishnan and Simon Hopkins some rooms away, huddled up against a decorative column detail, red-eyed and a little battered looking. Eddie zones out as Rodney rattles off some questions to his shaken subordinates, taking the opportunity to absorb the decor. He likes the blue and coppery tones with their hint of verdigris, the mood lighting and chunky-but-elegant panels and columns. It’s peaceful. Very Zen. Eddie’s very sensitive to light and noise but thinks even he might be able to meditate in a place like this. Venom snakes out a tentacle to curl around a light fixture, feeling Eddie’s approval and testing the texture for themself. One of the scientists yelps behind them.

Eddie spins around, as Dr. Gopalakrishnan yells, “What _is_ that?” and Dr. Hopkins slaps his hands over his mouth and turns pale.

“Oh,” says Eddie, twitching guiltily. “Sorry, I forgot. Uh, Dr. McKay?”

“ _That_ is Eddie Brock, he’s visiting under the optimistic auspices of Colonel Sheppard and he’s most probably our ticket out of here,” says McKay, hands on hips.

“But, but, um…” says Dr. Hopkins, extending a shaking finger to indicate Eddie’s sleeve, and McKay sighs.

“Yes, well, I suppose I have to break this to you both somehow. Mr. Brock is… has…” he trails off and frowns, compressing his lips, giving Eddie a sideways look. “How do you refer to…” he flaps a hand, indicating Eddie and everything he might contain and or stand for.

 **_Let me tell them_** , says Venom, sounding smug in the back of Eddie’s mind.  

“No, don’t, just give me a minute!” says Eddie, out loud, while the three scientists give him the fish-eye. He sighs and looks up at them.

“I’m a host. To an alien…” - don’t say parasite, don’t say parasite - “An alien symbiote.” The two scientists look wary.

“You’re Tokra?” asks Gopal, the whites of her eyes huge in the dim light. “I’ve never met one, I didn’t know you had…” she waggles her fingers to indicate tentacles, probably. 

“Uh, no?” says Eddie. More aliens? Jeez. “Don’t know those guys. Our - his, their - name is Venom and if it’s okay, you know, with you, they’d like to introduce themself.” Eddie normally quite enjoys fucking with people over this, but the two people they’re here to rescue look shocky already and they’ve probably had enough for one day.

“Well if we’re going to leave the way we came in, it’s not going to stay secret is it?” says McKay, gesturing at Eddie. “Chop, chop. Boys and girls, meet my current nightmare.”

Venom coils out and glares at Rodney.

 **We have been nothing but nice to you** , they growl. A few tendrils coalesce to form a human-shaped hand (if you ignore the claws) and wave to the other two, a hopeful-though-still-toothy smile on their face, milky eyes crinkling up at the corners, as mild as they can make them. **We are Venom** , they say. **It is good to meet you.**

Gopalakrishnan - Gopal for ease of use, apparently - and Hopkins work in a secret US military facility that deals with alien infrastructure, so it’s reasonable to assume it’s not the _theoretical_ notion of extraterrestrial life that has that expression plastered over both their faces. Eddie’s sympathetic. Venom’s a lot to process and not exactly pretty; they’re an acquired taste.

Venom must catch the edge of that thought, since they grin and hover over Eddie to pulsate in possessive loops.

 **We** **_acquired_ ** **Eddie some months ago** , they say, as Hopkins and Gopal stare.

While the scientists blink at them, V’s interior voice rumbles from somewhere around Eddie’s brain stem to add, silently, **_And you’re tasty, even if you’re not exactly pretty either, Eddie_**. It has about the same effect Anne used to have when she tightened her fist in the tie slung round his neck and whispered precise instructions in his ear.

Eddie’s sure he goes a shocking shade of red.

“Yes, now we all know each other. Can we get on with the getting out, please?” says McKay, making hustling motions with his fingers, oblivious to the white noise jangling Eddie’s nerves and V’s silent snickering. “Oh,” he says, guilty. “Sheppard. Right.” He taps his ear and ducks his head. “Sheppard? We’ve got them. They say there’s no way out, so we’re going to make our way back and, god help us, take turns being ferried over in the space suit. If that, ah, suits?” he concludes, cocking an eyebrow at Eddie and V.

Eddie’s fried brain is in no position to have any other bright ideas.

===

They make it back to the corridor that contains one empty space suit, slumped on the floor like a deflated marshmallow man. It’s sinister as fuck, a movie prop Eddie hopes isn’t the harbinger of terror in their future. He’s pretty sure if their day is becoming _Atlantis: The Horror Movie_ he’s the slutty one, and they _always_ get offed in the first act. 

“That’s how we’re getting through the coolant?” asks Gopal, wide eyed and worried, as Hopkins whimpers some curses under his breath.

“It’s as horrible as you’re imagining, so hurry up. Ladies first,” says McKay.

 ===

Gopal lets Them tuck her under their hulking arm and They float her over like a dream.

=== 

Hopkins throws up in the space suit. 

Sheppard cackles from the pilot’s chair, twisting in his seat and giving Rodney a blow by blow account of the entire thing over the radio, just so he knows what’s coming his way, as a couple of air force personnel help Hopkins scrub things out as best they can before Eddie and Venom can cart it back for their final trip.

“Hope you like carrots, Rodney!” says Sheppard, gleefully.

=== 

Eddie tunes out McKay’s bitching, bitching and more bitching as he shuffles into the soiled suit but helps him when it’s time to fasten the dubiously smeared helmet. Rodney gags as Eddie seals him in with a click and a clunk; Eddie nearly heaves in sympathy as well. He’s not tossed his cookies since his first twelve hours with Venom; happily his good run holds.

“It’ll be quick, pal, I promise,” says Eddie, patting him on the top of the transparent globe. McKay looks the picture of misery. Eddie surrenders to being engulfed in Venom and they wrap Rodney against their chest like a baby in harness, complete with puffy padded romper suit. Eddie laughs at the image and through the radio still twisted into his ear he hears Rodney’s staticky voice bemoan the departure of the last shred of his dignity.

 **Oopsy-daisy,** says Venom, cheerful, and they barrel around the corner, pinging from wall to wall and through the final door to the ruined chamber. The blue of the sky is just hazing into view through the still-pulsing vents of gas and Eddie’s almost sure he can see a darker outline of the waiting puddlejumper, when there’s a rumble from above.

They turn mid-bound, and Eddie’s just got time to hear Rodney squeak out a curse and to think _yikes_ when the roof falls in, a metal bar pierces something new in the innards of the wall and then suddenly, with a roar, everything around them is flames.

And then, and _then_ , oh fuckity fuck, the _floor_ falls out from under them.

===

They fling tendrils left and right, and god it’s weird how Eddie can feel this, the tug of weight through limbs he hadn’t got a moment before, the sharp edges clutched in their grip. He can feel the burn - oh shit, oh shit, oh shit - of the fire.

 **Fire!** squeaks Venom - and it can only be seconds but Eddie’s managed to relive the plummet from the Life Foundation rocket three times over and can feel Venom’s panic in every nerve while they clutch and fling themselves between supports that buckle under their mass, doing their best to control their fall into the darkness.

Then they’re in the room below, the only light source is the yellow embers falling around them and the flames licking around the rent in the ceiling; he’s lowering a screaming Rodney to the floor and Sheppard is yowling questions in his earpiece with words Eddie’s shook snowglobe brain can’t yet parse.

Venom backs them into the furthest corner they can manage, the room rapidly filling with thick smoke, and huddles back inside Eddie’s body. Eddie’s left in his own skin, clutching Rodney in the suit, which is ripped in half a dozen places, blood oozing from a particularly mangled tear over one bicep. They’re both struggling to breathe already in the smoke and the heat and crackle of fire roaring above them leaves no way out the way they came. 

Eddie’s still reeling at how fast this day has gone to shit. This morning he was bickering with Venom over their choice of chocolate frosted cereal and now his symbiote is kind of a gibbering wreck in the grip of some sort of alien PTSD and he’s going to burn to death in an invisible pre-historic skyscraper next to a Canadian whose earlier hyper-dramatics are now feeling a bit more well founded.

This is about when Eddie’s brain finally delivers the boot to his ass the situation deserves. He is not going to die here. He has dinner plans. And V to look after. Fuck this.

Sheppard certainly appears to be on board with this. Eddie’s radio is screaming in his ear on their open channel. “Rodney,” he yells, “McKay, you’re not dead! That’s an order!”

“We’re not dead,” rasps Eddie into the comms, turning to Rodney and kneading the padded shoulders of the suit under his hands. “C’mon, door man, how are we getting out of here? We’ve at least got one source of oxygen between us,” he says, tapping the tanks on Rodney’s back.

That seems to snap McKay right out of it; his eyes go from wide and too bright to scathing scowl without a blink. “Yes,” he sneers, “and that would be wonderful, but wait, no, not so much what with oxygen being inconvenient flammable and us in a room rapidly filling with, oh look, _fire_.”

“Yeah, well V’s flammable too,” snaps Eddie, getting hoarser with the smoke by the second. Venom’s a trembling, tiny, wide eyed fingerling curled into the side of Eddie’s neck. He doesn’t doubt they’d wrap him up completely if it was all standing between Eddie and fiery death - they’ve done it before, after all. But Eddie can feel their fear, and he brings his hand up to pat them absently, striving for a little comfort in the darkness. It’s becoming more chaotic moment by moment.

“Get me out of this,” urges McKay, gloved hands tugging uselessly at the helmet and Eddie complies, ripping off the gloves and snapping back the seals to haul him out. Rodney shoves the suit in the corner furthest from the flames.

“We need out _now_ , Brock, if your sticky other half can’t protect us from being barbequeued or blown up,” says McKay, patting the walls frantically as the room fills further with smoke. He’s coughing now, fist curled in front of his mouth, the other hand tugging at panels in the wall.

“Any fucking time, kids,” yells Sheppard through their comms. 

“Yes, yes, door, door, dooooor,” sings Rodney, dragging Eddie behind him along the wall, thrusting crystals and little circuit blocks into his hands, fingers steady as he switches things back and forth, even as they both of them stagger and cough and lean away from the heat, pressing themselves into the wall. 

V’s shrunk further under Eddie’s hoodie. Eddie giggles at the thought that if he dies here, he doesn’t die alone, even in his head. It’s probably oxygen deprivation talking. Not only does he have V crying **Eddie,** **_Eddie_** , Sheppard’s still yelling in their ears, probably hovering just outside the tower but it might as well be the moon for the good he can do now.

Eddie’s just about regretting he never thought seriously about having meaningful last words to share, pushing as much love towards V as he thinks they can handle, and Venom themself is deciding there’s nothing to lose by cloaking Eddie in as much of their mass as possible, when Rodney yells, “Ha!”.

The wall slides sideways and they’re deposited on their faces in a corridor, finally in daylight, the early evening sun casting blue and green dapples on the walls through a stained glass window a few feet to their right. 

They wheeze, but scramble up, getting wobbly legs underneath them, clutching each other for support. They’re both dripping with sweat and black with ash and smuts; Rodney’s eyes are white and scared in his grubby face, his hair sticking up in thin, sticky clumps. 

“If the oxygen tanks blow, we’re smears on this wall, let’s _go_ ,” wails McKay, but they’re too late. The air around them tears and roars, the vibrations shaking Eddie’s bones, and the frequency must be one of the bad ones ‘cause V _screams_. Eddie catches Rodney around the waist and aims his shoulder at the glass as they’re punched through the window in a blast of flame. 

=== 

Eddie and Rodney crash through the window, clutched together, the ongoing explosion disappearing rapidly up and away as they plummet, shards of coloured glass falling in pieces around them.

Eddie catches sight of the puddlejumper hovering out of the corner of his eye, but he’s tumbling and loses sight of it to the rush of the wind and the city pavement rapidly approaching.

Eddie’s not ashamed to scream.

=== 

Venom catches them both; Eddie thinks it must have been a matter of a few feet from the ground, since the pavement is filling the whole of his field of vision, McKay’s screaming into the radio and he’s convinced this is it before he’s jerking to a halt, Venom swinging them around a few times to lose the momentum before lowering them gently to the pier below.

Rodney is laid down alongside him, eyes closed, limbs sprawling. His chest is heaving and Eddie can hear the rattle of his lungs, but at least he’s breathing. Eddie’s done his bit; he closes his eyes and waits to be rescued.

===

It’s not that long a wait, in the end. The medical team are already there, fastening an oxygen mask over Rodney’s mouth and flashing lights into Eddie’s eyes, when the puddlejumper settles to a neat landing some distance away and and disgorges Sheppard and Ronon, approaching at a run.

Sheppard slides to a halt on his knees next to Rodney, probably still yelling at him. Ronon makes sure it’s all good before turning to Eddie.

“He okay?” asks Ronon, crouching down next to the medics. Eddie blinks, his daylight suddenly eclipsed by all those muscles.

“His oxygen levels look good, actually, much better than Rodney’s,” says a businesslike Dr. Keller, fiddling with something. Eddie’s just gonna let it happen, whatever, they know their job. He misses Dan though. Dan knows what’s what. 

“Venom pretty much takes care of me”, Eddie tells them, words slurring.

 **I’m very weak just now, though, maybe he needs mouth to mouth?** says Venom to Ronon, ever so trembly, and Eddie manages to reach out with one weak hand and slap the back of their black bulbous head. Keller snorts. 

“Up,” sighs Ronon and hauls him onto the gurney like a sack of potatoes.

===

So Eddie ends up back in the infirmary - and he’s tired at this point, the sun’s gone down by the time they get herded back and into a bed. He’s told they’re staying overnight, no argument, and Dr. Keller is tiny and blonde and outwardly meek but apparently stubborn as the rest of this lot, since she gets her way even when she has to argue her point with Venom. Mostly, it’s her willingness to take Venom at their word and sanction the application of large volumes of chocolate to aid their recovery.

 **I like her, Eddie** , says V, and that’s that. 

“This is bullshit,” Eddie tells her.

“It’s called trauma, dummy, I don’t know about you but most people - and yes, I know you’re not most people, but you are still people - most people do not get up and run home after nearly burning to death and falling sixty stories to the ground; you need rest and I want to make sure there aren’t any unpleasant surprises,” she says, bustling around with charts and tweaking the IV she’s insisted on to provide them with fluids.

“We _are_ an unpleasant surprise,” mumbles Eddie, and Dr. Keller - **Jennifer** , says V - just smiles and _reaches out to pet Venom’s head._

“Maybe you are,” she says, “but this gentleman is a sweetie, healing you up and taking good care of you inside and out.” Venom basically _purrs._

“Oh my god, you people are insane,” groans Eddie, into his pillow. But fine. Overnight it is.

Sheppard and Ronon are lounging in chairs next to the conscious-but-prone form of McKay, on the other side of the room, who’s being seen to by Dr. Beckett. He’s basically okay, from what Eddie can gather, but he doesn’t have a symbiote to heal him up so he’s being monitored for all the fun side effects of too much adrenaline, hypertension, bruising and smoke inhalation. The cut on his bicep is all wrapped up, he’s flat on his back and he’s still got the oxygen mask; Sheppard is making a face like a wet cat. From what Eddie can tell, Rodney’s too wrung out even to bitch. As he watches, Ronon stands up and whacks Sheppard on the shoulder and leaves him to his bedside vigil, sauntering over to see Eddie and V.

V perks up again, waving.

“Not something you see every day, eh?” says Eddie, in wingman mode if only for the sake of his other half.

“Nah. Seen some weird things out there,” says Ronon, ever dismissive, but grinning. 

 **But I am the most weird** says Venom, striving for clarity.

Ronon shrugs and smirks, looking like a self satisfied sequoia. Eddie can feel Venom flail.

“Not so much,” he says. “Thanks for catching McKay though. We’re grateful.” He looks over at Sheppard, who’s not moved from the side of Rodney’s bed. Eddie looks with him, and they’re silent for a moment, watching the angsty tableau, until Ronon grunts and snaps out of it. “I’m taking Sheppard to eat something. Get better, Brock. Venom.” He nods and Eddie watches as Ronon strides off.

 **_I see you appreciate the view_** , snarks Venom, fortunately silently.

“Shut up,” says Eddie, settling back. “And don’t think I can’t tell I’m not the only one with a little crush, or whatever that nonsense was all about. Besides,” he adds, through a jaw-cracking yawn, “it’s practically at eye level, what’s a man to do?”

 **Sleep** , says Venom. **I got us.**

Eddie does. 

===

Eddie wakes later to low voices arguing, the only light falling orange from the doorway and casting purple shadows around the ward. Rodney’s bed is two bays over, on the far side of the room. There’s a dark shape hovering next to it; Atlantis’ military commander is holding himself almost timidly at the foot of the bed occupied by the city’s chief scientist.

Venom’s night vision is hot shit though. Eddie drops his lashes as far as he can and lets Venom’s pale lenses puddle on the surface of his eyes. Sue him; he’s nosy.

Sheppard’s fingers are reaching out as if to pluck at where McKay’s toes poke up under the scratchy infirmary blanket, but he lets them fall back, appearing to think better of it. He stuffs his hands in his pockets instead, guilty eyes sliding away from his friend’s - and Eddie would bet his brand new motorcycle there’s more going on there, but still, his _friend’s_ \- own big ol’ baby blues, now luminous and violet through Eddie’s Venom-tinted specs in the dim light.

“This isn’t fair, Sheppard,” Rodney’s whispering, from the bed. “I’m tired. Aren’t you tired?” Eddie doesn’t think they’re discussing the hour, not really.

“Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d check you hadn’t coughed yourself to death overnight.” His fingers brush the blanket this time, skating over the coarse weave to grab Rodney’s toe and he gives it a friendly waggle before shoving his hands back in his pockets. He smiles, insincere as Carlton Drake but a hundred million times more fragile.

“Oh surprise, surprise you didn’t answer my question.” Eddie sees McKay bust out another of those almost audible eye rolls, the slanted line of his mouth turned down in displeasure. “And you know that’s not what I meant. All I hear right now is your silence and god knows I get enough of that in daylight hours, so if you don’t mind, Colonel Insomnia, some of us want to sleep.”

Sheppard’s breathing sounds shallow; his shoulders are up around his ears. He glares at the bed, looking Rodney in the eye for the first time since Eddie’s been paying attention to them. He drags a hand from his pocket and scrubs a hand over the back of his neck, eyes darting nowhere in particular.

“Of course I’m fucking tired, McKay, I’m not… It won’t… Goddammit, I can’t…”

Sheppard doesn’t have Venom or Eddie’s intermittent gift of the gab, apparently. This sounds more like Eddie on a bad day, stuttering and mumbling all the way. All Eddie can hear is the two men breathing, short and sharp.

“Yeah, well, turns out I can’t either,” replies Rodney, breaking the silence with finality.

Eddie isn’t exactly Mr. Empathy at the best of times but he can recognise bitter, hurt and disappointed when he hears it. Rodney rolls over to face the far wall, tugging the blanket over his head, effectively dismissing the universe. Sheppard doesn’t immediately react at all, hands still in pockets, silhouette motionless apart from the now noiseless heaving of his chest in the dark.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Rodney,” sighs Sheppard, eventually, to the lump under the blanket, his fingers twitching uselessly towards the bed again even as he accepts McKay’s dismissal and turns away. Eddie and Venom watch him drift out of the room, listless and insubstantial, haunted, hollow, like a spectre, or a wraith. 

After a while, the blankets two beds over start to tremble and they hear muffled sniffling. Eddie mentally begs Venom to stuff up his ears, ‘cause goddammit, he’s a muckraker and a hack but he can give a man some fucking privacy when he’s down.

Venom’s kind enough to oblige.  


=== THE END ===

 

… of this installment...

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, I’d love to hear from you in the comments, so come say hi! 
> 
> Stay tuned, as the story will continue...
> 
> Massive thanks to R, Escrievine and Parker for reading drafts, and to Miriad for beta!


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